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mihai marian Jun 2019
and now your body, a shack of boards.
mercury eyes interfering with light
of  the initial insect.
above us,  the balconies filled with wet laundry.
the sky is exfoliating  in millions of sheets
which autumn sprays like a confetti rain over us.
behind the public toilet
an old beggar looks into her ragged bags:
bread, milk bottles, few eggs
a  machine for manufacturing loneliness
and in the heart, something deep, unbearable.
her big blue eye
it fills us with terror.

— The End —